Joe Wright’s “Anna Karenina” is an ambitious, stylish and divisive adaptation of the classic novel, told in an unusual way that draws attention to its own artifice in a way that undercuts the story, offering too many distractions to compel audiences to care about its characters. It’s a bold attempt, to be sure, but a bold failure, which I’ll grant makes it infinitely more interesting than most mediocre films that play it safe.

The conceit with this adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s classic novel is that the entirety of the film (save a handful of sequences) take place in a dilapidated old theater, where sets are constantly dressed and redressed, elaborate props are introduced and our characters make their way on stage and off, through the backstage and the rafters and the lobby, acting out their great social tragedy for no diegetic audience, unaware of their stage-bound lives.

Keira Knightley reunites with her “Atonement” and “Pride & Prejudice” director here, playing the titular role, a woman of high Russian society married to a distant but principled aristocrat (Jude Law). Her brother (Matthew Macfadyen, Mr. Darcy in “Pride & Prejudice,” which is casting I could not get out of my head here) is caught in an affair, and Anna is sent to talk some sense into him, but along the way falls under the spell of the charming young Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson).

Despite her knowledge of the pitfalls of adultery in high society — and risking everything she possesses — she eventually embarks on a passionate affair with Vronsky, leading, inevitably, to tragedy.

This is paralleled with the love story of Levin (Domhnall Gleeson), a friend of Anna’s brother, and Kitty (Alicia Vikander), a pure and dutiful love contrasted with the comings and goings of high society. Levin’s scenes, set in the Russian countryside, are the few scenes removed from the theatrical setting.

The metaphor is clear: In Russian high society, your life is public, as if performed … well, you can figure it out. This theatrical conceit is clearly not complicated, yet serves to distance the viewer nonetheless from the action, as it becomes difficult to care why its characters are doing what they’re doing, nor is it immediately easy to discern just who’s who and where they are, particularly if you aren’t familiar with Tolstoy’s novel.

Not that all the problems with the film can be assigned to Wright’s directorial choices, reportedly made after screenwriter Tom Stoppard adapted the novel. I love Stoppard, but the film feels massively condensed and moves at a breakneck pace, particularly in its final 30 or so minutes, as Anna further loses her grip on sanity.

Wright’s actors don’t fare particularly well, sadly; whether that’s due to the film’s artifice or due to an inherent miscasting, it’s hard to say. Knightley gives a fine performance as Anna, a woman born in the wrong time and place, but again, her story is hard to connect to. The fact that Taylor-Johnson is wildly unconvincing as the lothario Vronsky cannot help; there is no sense of passion or appeal from the “Kick-Ass” actor, just a youthful petulance, and the whole illicit romance being reliant upon his performance is as ill-considered as anything else in the film. He’s out of his depth. Law, Gleeson and Vikander fare well, though Law’s characterization suffers from the truncation of the story.

And yet Wright’s trademark visual sumptuousness is on full display here; there are stunningly shot sequences and visually clever moments that rank right up there with the best of 2012. For that reason, perhaps “Anna Karenina” is worth seeing on a big screen, but, sadly, only for that reason.

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Joe Wright’s “Anna Karenina” is an ambitious, stylish and divisive adaptation of the classic novel, told in an unusual way that draws attention to its own artifice in a way that undercuts the story, offering too many distractions to compel audiences to care about its characters. It’s a bold attempt, to be sure, but a bold failure, which I’ll grant makes it infinitely more interesting than most mediocre films that play it safe.

The conceit with this adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s classic novel is that the entirety of the film (save a handful of sequences) take place in a dilapidated old theater, where sets are constantly dressed and redressed, elaborate props are introduced and our characters make their way on stage and off, through the backstage and the rafters and the lobby, acting out their great social tragedy for no diegetic audience, unaware of their stage-bound lives.

Keira Knightley reunites with her “Atonement” and “Pride & Prejudice” director here, playing the titular role, a woman of high Russian society married to a distant but principled aristocrat (Jude Law). Her brother (Matthew Macfadyen, Mr. Darcy in “Pride & Prejudice,” which is casting I could not get out of my head here) is caught in an affair, and Anna is sent to talk some sense into him, but along the way falls under the spell of the charming young Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson).

Despite her knowledge of the pitfalls of adultery in high society — and risking everything she possesses — she eventually embarks on a passionate affair with Vronsky, leading, inevitably, to tragedy.

This is paralleled with the love story of Levin (Domhnall Gleeson), a friend of Anna’s brother, and Kitty (Alicia Vikander), a pure and dutiful love contrasted with the comings and goings of high society. Levin’s scenes, set in the Russian countryside, are the few scenes removed from the theatrical setting.

The metaphor is clear: In Russian high society, your life is public, as if performed … well, you can figure it out. This theatrical conceit is clearly not complicated, yet serves to distance the viewer nonetheless from the action, as it becomes difficult to care why its characters are doing what they’re doing, nor is it immediately easy to discern just who’s who and where they are, particularly if you aren’t familiar with Tolstoy’s novel.

Not that all the problems with the film can be assigned to Wright’s directorial choices, reportedly made after screenwriter Tom Stoppard adapted the novel. I love Stoppard, but the film feels massively condensed and moves at a breakneck pace, particularly in its final 30 or so minutes, as Anna further loses her grip on sanity.

Wright’s actors don’t fare particularly well, sadly; whether that’s due to the film’s artifice or due to an inherent miscasting, it’s hard to say. Knightley gives a fine performance as Anna, a woman born in the wrong time and place, but again, her story is hard to connect to. The fact that Taylor-Johnson is wildly unconvincing as the lothario Vronsky cannot help; there is no sense of passion or appeal from the “Kick-Ass” actor, just a youthful petulance, and the whole illicit romance being reliant upon his performance is as ill-considered as anything else in the film. He’s out of his depth. Law, Gleeson and Vikander fare well, though Law’s characterization suffers from the truncation of the story.

And yet Wright’s trademark visual sumptuousness is on full display here; there are stunningly shot sequences and visually clever moments that rank right up there with the best of 2012. For that reason, perhaps “Anna Karenina” is worth seeing on a big screen, but, sadly, only for that reason.